Magical Mess Remover
by Alexannah
Summary: Minerva's 'friends' lock her and Professor Dumbledore in the traditional setting for snog sessions. Will sparks fly? And what sort? ADMM [Drabble]


Summary: Minerva's 'friends' lock her and Professor Dumbledore in the traditional setting for snog sessions. Will sparks fly? And which sort?

Rating: PG

Warnings: Student/teacher ship

Disclaimer: I own … (_checks pockets_) nothing. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

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**Magical Mess Remover**

By Alexannah

"Rolanda, do you really think this was such a good idea?" Pomona asked worriedly over the loud banging on the cupboard door. "I mean, Minerva's going to be furious."

"I'd take the 'going to be' out of that sentence if I were you," Poppy chuckled. "She _is_ furious."

"It's just a joke!" Rolanda exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air in frustration.

"A joke that _could_ get her expelled _if_ it works."

"Oh, please. The biggest thing that can happen is a quick snog. That's not going to get either of them in trouble." She held out her arms. "Shall we leave them to it?"

Poppy and Pomona glanced at each other anxiously, but followed their friend out of the danger zone.

Minerva, hammering on the door from the inside, missed and caught her wrist on the frame. "Ouch!"

"Are you alright?" Dumbledore asked worriedly.

Minerva huffed and sat down on a box of Mrs Skower's. "Those three are dead meat." She sighed. "Are _you_ alright, Professor?"

Dumbledore shifted his weight from one foot to another. Being forced to stand in a broom cupboard with little room to move against three mops, right next to his favourite student was not the most comfortable situation he'd ever been in.

"A bit cramped." He started searching his pockets for his wand. "_Ah_."

"What is it?"

"My wand's back in the classroom." He looked up at her. "Could you try _Alohomora_, Miss McGonagall?"

Minerva pulled out her wand and tried the spell, but nothing happened. "I think they used a locking spell. I don't know which one."

Dumbledore sighed. "What about _Reducto_? A bit crude, but normally effective."

"I can't do that one, Professor; it never works for me."

"May I?" The Transfiguration teacher held out his hand, and Minerva passed him her wand. "_Reducto!_"

For a moment it seemed as if the whole cupboard exploded. Minerva and Dumbledore were both blasted backwards into the wall, the mops and brooms falling down on top of them.

"Ouch!"

"It appears your wand doesn't like me much."

Minerva looked at her Professor, only just then realising the two of them were practically in each other's arms and her face was barely inches away from his. She swallowed, her breath hitching.

Dumbledore was having similar thoughts. Their faces so close they were almost touching. Gradually the gap between them seemed to close of its own accord.

As soon as Minerva realised what was happening she closed her eyes and leant into the kiss more. Dumbledore's hand moved up and rested on her cheek. His moustache wasn't bristly at all, but soft, and his mouth tasted sweetly of chocolate and lemon – a sensation she hadn't liked so much before, but now craved.

Her arm crept round his neck. He gently pulled away, and she let out a small moan as contact was broken. Dumbledore's hand didn't move from her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin softly, and they'd begun to lean in again when the cupboard door flew open and the two leapt apart as if the other was on fire. Minerva's arm shot up to shield her eyes from the sudden bright light.

"Thank you, Professor."

Dippet lent a hand to pull the two of them to their feet. "Who locked the door?"

Dumbledore glanced at Minerva before responding, "Rolanda Hooch. I think it was just an early April Fool's."

"A _very_ early one, it's not for another month and a half," Dippet commented, but didn't press the subject. "Albus, staff meeting in five minutes."

Dumbledore nodded at Minerva, shot her a tiny secret smile, and left with the headmaster. Minerva stood there for several minutes, her mind only just registering what had happened, before setting off to find – and murder – her friends.

The next day dawned, with nothing changed, except for one thing. Both parties secretly daydreamed of the brief touch on the other one's lips on theirs and fantasised for the day when it could happen again with no need for a broom cupboard to hide it.

**FIN**


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